Curing Allergies
by wiltingflowersandpinkribbons
Summary: 4th in the Cures Series. Is it possible for the team to cure Ianto of his allergic reaction and NOT get killed in the process? Not likely. After all, alien food means alien allergies, and cures for those are hard to find.


**A/N's:**

Sazza-da-vampire: Summer holidays are a good time to write, has anyone else noticed that? No school in the way, no obligations (other than work and my ballet) and lots and lots of time to write. :) We have written it, edited it, NOT deleted and/or lost it, and finished it, all in order to produce a piece worthy of your laughter. :D Hope you enjoy!

Wiltingflowersandpinkribbons: Wow. I cannot believe it's finally done. This was probably the hardest one to write, but, hopefully, our hard work paid off. This one centres on Ianto, and although it _was _hard, it was still a lot of fun to write. You may notice that DWF doesn't have an A/N. Don't worry, she's still writing, she's just out of contact at the moment. She left for holidays the day after this story was finished, and so we couldn't find her to give us her A/N now that it's been betta'd. Oh well. Anyway, enjoy the story!!

**Disclaimer: **Okay, so we still don't own Torchwood. But we will. Someday.

**Dedication:** To the Blackpoolians. Katie, Mick, Jonas, Nat, Gemma, Sophie and Ollie.

* * *

**Curing Allergies**

There are many reasons as to why people wake up before dawn. Anxiety, stress, sleeping problems, fitness regimes, early flights and mysterious midnight callers who just can't seem to take a hint being just a few. However, one reason to get out of bed before dawn which is rarely ever heard of, is finding yourself feeling the need to vomit, most likely due to the curious meal that your partner (who happens to be your 2000+ year old boss) made you eat before informing you that it was ripe with ingredients originating in alien farms on planets such as Gabeel, Liendrous and the infamous Klom.

Still, that's how Ianto Jones found himself awake and frantically hobbling to his bathroom at 4 am on one fine September morning. Of course, Ianto was in no mood to appreciate the gloriously glowing sun, in fact, the only things that he appreciated right now was the cool feel of the tiled floor against his flushed skin, and the close proximity to the toilet, should last night's dinner decide to make _another_ re-appearance.

"I'm going to kill Jack," Ianto murmured to the tiles, before his exhaustion finally got the better of him and he fell asleep, half naked, right there on the tiled floor.

* * *

Now, there are many reasons as to why someone may drop in on a friend early in the morning. The friends might be planning a party together, in need of some company, or, one friend may have borrowed something from the other friend and was keeping it for a ridiculously long time and refusing to give it back. However, one reason to visit a friend in the morning which is rarely ever heard of, is to drop breakfast off for said friend because he has become incapable of performing even the simplest of tasks due to a rather hilarious incident involving two falling men, a tree, and a stray herd of Kudus running amuck around the centre of Cardiff.

Still, that was the reason why Gwen Cooper found herself climbing the stairs of Ianto's flat at 6 am on a Wednesday morning, laden with bags full of eggs, bacon, bread, milk, cheese, tomato, sausages and an absolutely massive bottle of orange juice.

"Ianto?" she called, expecting to find him sitting on the couch as he had been every Wednesday morning for the past five and a half weeks. He wasn't.

He wasn't in the dining room either.

Or the study.

Or the kitchen.

Gwen was starting to get worried now. Everything _looked_ the same as it had the last time that she had been in the apartment. The business calendar on which he crossed off each day (with his trusty ruler – of course), the photo from Jack's birthday party sitting on the kitchen bench (in which she, Ianto and Jack were covered in cake, Owen was attempting to steal Ianto's crutches and Tosh was throwing peanuts at Owen's head) and the worryingly large movie collection filling an entire wall of the teaboy's lounge room were all there. But Ianto wasn't..

"Ianto?!" she practically screamed, running into the bedroom. An answering groan came from her right.

"Ianto, is there any particular reason that you're using the toilet seat as a pillow?"

"Mmmhmmmm Jack mmmmhmm kill mmmm"

"I _don't_ think I want to know."

Sighing in frustration, Gwen pulled Ianto off the floor and helped him to his bed.

"Right. Well. Feel up for a full English breakfast?"

Ianto just groaned and rolled onto his stomach, causing Gwen to scream.

"What!?" he yelled, sitting bolt upright.

"Your skin! Ianto, look at your skin!"

Examining his arm, Ianto realised that something was most definitely _wrong_**. **Tiny bumps, like little molehills were moving up and down his arm. The movement horribly reminded him of tiny bugs, running around under his skin. He felt the need to throw up again.

"What … the _hell_… is happening… to me?"

"Well, we can assume it's alien, considering."

"Oh, yeah, because this is definitely normal human behaviour. _Definitely_."

They both sat in silence, staring at his arm for a moment. It was disgustingly hypnotic.

"I am going to _kill_Jack."

"Why?"

"It's his fault."

"Ianto I know that most thing are Jack's fault, but still - "

"No – seriously – this is Jack's fault."

"Why?"

"He made me eat alien food last night!"

"Ianto! You're the one who ate it!"

"Yeah – but I _didn't_ know it was alien food at the time!"

"You shouldn't have eaten it!"

"Does it _look_ like I'm capable of getting up and making my own food at the moment?"

Gwen took a look at Ianto, whose cast covered all of his right leg, and gave a sigh.

"Fine. So it _was_ Jack's fault. Now, let's find out what the hell he's done to you."

Ianto looked at her.

"NOT LIKE THAT!!! Dammit, you're getting to be as bad as him!!"

The only reply she received was a slightly crooked grin and a tweaked eyebrow. She almost screamed in frustration.

"Right. Let's get you down to the hub."

"_What_?" Well, that wiped the grin of his face.

"We've got to get you down to the hub so that we can figure out what's wrong with you."

"_No_ _way_."

"Ianto, stop being childish."

"Gwen they'll try to cure me!! Didn't you see what they did to Jack?! I'm happy _without_a bullet hole in my head, thanks."

"Ianto, I'm sure everyone will be perfectly professional about this - "

"Oh yes, because everyone was _perfectly_ professional the last three times people turned up with various ailments."

"Owen will treat you as he would any other patient - "

"Are we talking about the same Owen? Because _I'm_ talking about the one whom we knocked out _four_ _times_ in the space of a day and _then_ locked in a cell with a rabid weevil!"

"You'll be fine, it'll all be alright - "

"Yes, because it was alright last time, and the time before, and the time before that! That is, if you think that broken feet, crazed bees, and an insane Tosh are '_alright'_."

"I'm not going to win this am I?"

"No!"

"Fine. We'll just call Jack then."

Satisfied that he had won the argument, Ianto hobbled to the phone, dialled Jacks number, put him on speaker, and waited for an answer.

"Hey, Ian, I missed you last night."

His opening sentence caused Gwen to have a small coughing fit. Well, small enough to not kill her, but large enough to make Ianto worry about her need for a hospital.

"_Jack_."

" . . . I'm in trouble aren't I?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Gwen stepped in, seeing that Ianto was too busy glaring at the telephone to say anything more.

"Jack, we need to know what you fed Ianto last night."

"Really? Why?"

"That doesn't matter."

"You two are keeping something from me."

"No we're not."

"Why do you need to know what he ate?"

"Because Ianto's a bit . . . ill."

Ianto looked up; fear plastered across his face, and made silencing movements to Gwen, who pointedly ignored them.

"Ianto," she continued, "is a bit sick. And we're trying to fix that."

"IANTO NEEDS CURING?!" Jack shouted, the glee evident in his voice. With an audible groan, Ianto began to smash his head against the bedside table.

"Just tell us what you fed him Jack."

"Fine. Braileen mineral worms, corned beef, Klominian dried flamio (that's … kinda like pork), er, Groblib oysters … and a salad mix from Woolworths."

Ianto stared at the phone open mouthed. _You have __**got **__to be kidding me_, he thought.

"Jack."

"Yes, Ianto?"

"I'M ALLERGIC TO SHELLFISH!"

"So?"

"THAT INCLUDES_OYSTERS_**!"**

"Oh. Well then, you'd better come down to the hub, so that we can get this allergy of yours cur-"

"If you say cured right now, I swear to god I will _destroy_ that coffee machine and force you to drink _tea_."

Jack promptly shut up.

"Right, well, we need to get you into the hub." Gwen said, wondering just how she would perform that difficult task.

"_Not_ going to happen."

"Ianto, you need to come in here. Allergies can be very harmful, and it's not like you can go to hospital."

"No way in hell."

"Jack?"

"Yes Gwen?"

"We'll be there in half an hour."

* * *

Jack waltzed into the main hub, a massive grin on his face. "We have a _mission!"_ he announced dramatically.

Tosh and Owen were suddenly very, very worried. If it was a mission to save Cardiff from aliens Jack wouldn't be so …. cheerful. The only conclusion they could reach was that someone needed curing.

"What's happened, Jack?" Tosh asked warily, expecting something like hiccups, a chocolate addiction or a cold.

"Dun duh DUNN!!!!!!"

"What the fuck?" Owen interjected. Jack responded with a glare.

"It's dramatic." Jack suddenly brightened. "Ianto's had an allergic reaction to alien oysters!"

* * *

"Ianto! Ianto! Let _go_ of the _pole_. We're going to the hub, _now_."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" Ianto screamed, achieving some very odd looks from passersby. It's not everyday that you see a 20–something year old man, complete with broken leg, clinging to a pole and screaming his head off while some lady tries to drag him away by his feet.

"_Would you rather me take you to the hospital_?" Gwen asked, as she would a tantrum-prone child.

"YES!"

"So how are you going to explain this to them?" Gwen's tactic was to subtly point Ianto to the hub instead.

"I WAS BITTEN BY A RADIO-ACTIVE SPIDER!!!"

"_Very_ original."

Gwen's mission to get Ianto into the car was put to a sudden halt with the appearance of a little old lady, complete with walking stick and a painful looking handbag.

"Ianto, dear, I wanted to thank you for taking care of my cats last Tuesday. I'm so lucky to have such a kind grandson," she said, looking at Ianto, who was clinging to the pole for dear life.

"Cats?" Gwen muttered, remembering the incidents which had occurred as a result of said cats entering the hub last Tuesday. "No, _anything_ but the cats."

Ianto, taking advantage of Gwen's distraction, turned to the old lady, "Grandma Beatrice!! Please help me!! SHE'S TRYING TO ABDUCT ME!!!!"

Beatrice, eyes wide with surprise, turned to Gwen, noticing her for the first time.

"Gwen, darling, what are you doing to my poor grandson?"

Gwen, shaking her head to rid herself of the traumatising memories, turned to face Beatrice and Ianto. "Wait, Ianto, she's _actually_ your grandmother?"

"SHE THINKS SHE IS!"

"Oh, well, Grandma Beatrice, Ianto here is supposed to have a promotion today, but he's too afraid to go in, because he thinks that he might not get it." Gwen said, saying the first excuse that popped into her head.

"Oh," was Grandma Beatrice's calm reply, as she eyed her 'grandson's' legs, "so it has nothing to do with the fact that he has moss growing on his legs?"

Ianto (finally letting go of the pole) pulled up the leg of his pants, examining his good leg. There was indeed, a mossy like rash on it, complete with tiny moving lumps. He looked at Gwen, worried.

"Maybe I _should_ go to the hub."

"You think?"

Finally agreeing with each other, they both began to head off to Gwen's car, only to be interrupted once more by Grandma Beatrice.

"Oh, Gwen?"

"Yes, Grandma Beatrice?"

"Could you give this to the Captain? I heard it was his birthday last week, and I know how much he loves these cardigans." Out of her bag Grandma Beatrice pulled a brightly wrapped package, which she handed over to Gwen before departing with a small wave.

* * *

"Is this really _necessary_?" Ianto asked, looking down at the padlocked chains, leather belts and the copious amounts of rope which were now confining him to his seat.

". . .Yes."

"Why?"

"Well, when I tell you all the possible allergy cures that I know of, you're going to want to get out of the car." Ianto turned a ghostly shade of white.

"Let me just say, that when I'm done listing, you'll wish we were going to hospital."

"Gwen? You shouldn't have said that. . . .NOW GET ME OUT OF THIS CAR RIGHT NOW!!!!"

* * *

­­Meanwhile, back at the hub, Captain Jack and his crack team of alien-killing heroes were preparing to cure their teaboy. For they could not survive without coffee. So Jack was ticking off his list with Owen's help.

"Do we have the cameras?"

"Yes."

"Broadcasting live to channel 4?"

"Yes. Is this really necessary?" Tosh joined the conversation.

"Yes. Do we have the absorbaloff?"

"What! No."

"How does my hair look?"

"Like crap." A hand connected with Owen's face with a resounding w_hack_. "Ow." Owen clutched his now-broken nose, honestly not comprehending that it was the result of his insolence.

* * *

Back in Gwen's car, the pair were speeding down the road, and Ianto had finally stopped screaming.

"At least the things on your arm have stopped moving," Gwen commented hopefully.

"No. They haven't," Ianto replied despondently.

"I can't see them."

"_That's_ because," Ianto paused, wincing, "they moved."

"To where?" Her question was met with a steely glare.

* * *

"Now we have two people in need of a cure," Tosh muttered, looking across the hub at Owen's bleeding nose.

"Jack, did you really have to punch him?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"HE INSULTED MY HAIR!!"

"You are _such_ an _idiot_."

"Well, at _least_ I look better than he does, now."

Owen, looking up from the mirror he was using to wipe the blood off his face, saw Jack strike a modelling pose. His mirror suddenly took on the role of a missile.

One which was headed for Jack's head.

* * *

Driving to work, minding his own business at 8:00 am on a fine Wednesday morning, in the middle of September, PC Andy Davidson was expecting to see a lot of things. Cars, birds, kebabs, traffic lights that seemed to be permanently stuck on red and even the occasional blade of grass. One thing that PC Andy Davidson certainly did _not_ expect to see was his ex-girlfriend, and old work colleague Gwen Cooper pulling up beside him and waving to him calmly from the front seat of her car, while sitting beside what appeared to be an insane man tied up with ropes, leather belts and padlocked chains, screaming his head off and bashing his head against the window. She wound down her window after realising what Andy was staring at and stated calmly, _too_ calmly, that she was simply taking a mental patient back to the asylum he'd escaped from that morning.

"DON'T TAKE ME BACK!!! THE TEAM!! THE TEAM ARE GOING TO KILL ME!!! FIRST THEY KILLED THE COFFEE MACHINE!! AND NOW THEY'RE COMIING FOR ME!!! I LIKE THE MOSS AND LUMPY THINGS!!! IT'S PERFECTLY NATURAL THAT IT'S GROWING ON MY LEG!!! PLEASE!! THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU WORK FOR BLOODY TORCHWOOD!!! GET ME **OOOUUUUUTTTTT**!!!!!"

"See Andy? Still want a job? It appears we're going to have a vacancy. . ."

"**JUST** SO YOU KNOW!! ONE OF YOUR REQUIREMENTS **WILL** BE SHAGGING JACK!! HE LIKES IT WHEN YOU BITE HIS NECK!!!!!"

"Urrr. Oh look. The light's green. Goodbye." Andy sped off into the rain, going way over the speed limit in order to put some distance between himself and insanity.

And that was how PC Andy Davidson started his morning. Maybe he _didn't_ want a job at Torchwood that badly.

* * *

"Too much information, Ianto," Gwen commented.

"Sorry."

Silence reigned supreme in the little car, until Gwen finally voiced her curiosity. "Does he really?"

"Really what?"

"Like it when you bite his neck."

"Yeah. That and a lot more stuff like-"

"Ianto."

"What?"

"Going to have to stop you there."

* * *

"This is _all_ _Owen's_ _fault_," Jack murmured as Tosh pulled yet another shard of glass from his head.

"IT IS NOT!"

"IS TOO!"

"IS NOT!"

"IS TOO!"

"WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP! … AND GROW UP?!"

"NO!" they both screamed. Tosh rolled her eyes at them. They were _supposed_ to be preparing for Ianto's arrival so that they could cure him. Instead, they were attempting to kill each other.

Lovely.

* * *

In the car, all was not well. Gwen was having a marvellous time, talking to (or rather, at) Ianto about all the latest fashions and even some celebrities (alright, half of them she'd made up on the spot, but Ianto didn't notice) when he started to fidget (or try to) uncomfortably.

"Gwen?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm itchy."

"Well then scratch."

"I can't. I'm kind of tied up here."

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Gwen looked at him for a second, miserably tied up in the seat. He stayed silent, a faint flush rising in his cheeks.

"Oh hell no."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"_Where_ are you itchy?"

"My nose."

And so Gwen, sighing heavily, found herself scratching the tip of Ianto's nose, whilst he smiled comfortably, looking disturbingly similar to a kitten as you scratch it behind its ears.

* * *

"Gwen."

"What?"

"I'm itchy again."

Gwen heaved a sigh. "Where?"

"Uhmmm…." Ianto looked quite uncomfortable.

"No. No nononono NO."

* * *

Ianto hit the pavement painfully, still tied up. "Gwen!" he yelled pitifully as she drove away. "I'm not on the lift, you bitch!" he muttered under his breath.

Passers-by stared at the man, tied up on the pavement, and carefully avoided the immediate area. Anyone who was too absent minded to notice him was forcibly brought to attention by his loud voice, requesting that someone would, 'Please, for the love of god, scratch my nose!'.

Ianto tried to roll over, so as to get onto the correct paver, but just as he managed to get his top half onto the invisible lift, it started descending.

Oh shit.

The lift, without its intended load, was almost at the bottom when Ianto's precarious balance failed, sending him tumbling down the hole, head-first. Ianto screamed, squeezing his eyes shut as he approached his imminent death.

Two strong arms caught him before he hit the floor, but he was quickly dropped with a shout of, "Ew, gross! MOSS!!! Wiggly skin bugs! Eurgh!"

Ianto glared up at Jack from his position on the floor. "Untie me. Now," he stated dangerously. Jack gulped.

Gwen sidled off inconspicuously.

* * *

"I've heard that nettles are therapeutic," Tosh mused.

"Oh no. Not happening."

"If it works, though…."

"It won't."

"Unless we try it."

"Tosh. No."

Suddenly something whacked Ianto behind the knees. "Owen! Where'd you find those nettles?" Tosh gasped, pleased with his find.

"Uh…. The Alien Flora Room."

"WHAT?! THE ALIEN FLORA ROOM?! DON'T YOU REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED **LAST **TIME WE USED SOEMTHING FROM THERE?!"

Owen didn't answer, remembering that particular incident. Jack, however, missed the point.

"A very good night."

"NOT THAT TIME JACK!!"

"But that was last time."

"THE TIME **BEFORE** LAST TIME!!! And you're disturbing Owen." Ianto added, glancing at the medic, who'd turned a nasty shade of green and was standing in the corner with his hands over his ears.

Death-glaring Jack.

"There'll be another mirror heading your way if you aren't careful," was Toshiko's quiet observation. She'd been rather subdued today. Gwen figured this was because she now knew what being cured was like, and she didn't like it. At all.

"Right. Well, nettles it is. Owen, go and fetch them, and be careful to wear gloves. . .Owen? OWEN HARPER!!!" Jack's yell startled the frightened medic from his reverie. "You with us again?"

"Yeah. Sure, I'm fine. . .I'll just go get the. . .things."

"Right. . ."

"OWWWWWW!!! JACK!!! STOP!!! IT HURTS!!"

"Ianto. I haven't even done anything yet. . ."

". . .oh."

"Now. Hold still. It'll only take a moment."

"HOLD STILL!!!! IT"S NOT LIKE I HAVE A CHOICE!!!!" Ianto bellowed looking down, very alarmed, at the manacles chaining him to the wall, and then at the stinging nettles clasped firmly in Jack's rubber clad hands.

Gwen and Owen came up on the other side of Jack, both holding bunches of stinging nettles. "It's fine, pet," Gwen cooed.

"Yeah, it'll only take a moment…" Owen sadly attempted to comfort the poor man.

"DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME **PET** YOU COW!!!!"

"DON'T CALL ME A COW . . . you . . . rabbit."

For a moment Ianto was silent. This didn't last long, however.

"Rabbit?" he questioned indignantly. "_Rabbit?_"

"I couldn't think of a creative insult," Gwen admitted, shamefaced.

"Well why not just go for a less creative one?" This set Gwen off.

"BECAUSE I WANTED TO BE DIFFERENT!!!"

This (not so) little argument was brought to a premature halt by their boss's pained yell.

"Jack?"

"I stung myself."

Gwen, Owen and even Ianto all burst into laughter at his display of idiocy.

"Don't laugh at me," Jack pouted.

". . . .What's that sound?" Ianto asked, worried by the sounds of something heavy being dragged up a set of stairs.

"Errrr…" No-one would meet his eyes. It was then that he realised Tosh was missing.

WHOOSH. Ianto looked up in horror as a giant bucket full of boiled nettle leaves was dumped on his head by a grinning Tosh.

Ianto screamed bloody murder, and even though he was restrained by chains, Tosh took off running and laughing.

She didn't get far though. Ianto's screams of pain, coupled with numerous profanities in various languages, followed her as she pelted down the second floor walkway, slipping and sliding on the wet metal floor. Unfortunately, she was so busy trying to get away from Ianto that she didn't take into account the walkway's wetness. Her manic laughter morphed into a scream as she slipped, and found herself abruptly falling down a flight of stairs.

Luckily, there was something at the bottom to cushion her fall. _Un_luckily, that somethingwas a rather large collection of stinging nettles which Owen had dumped near Ianto's 'torture spot' (as Jack had dubbed it, much to the disgust of the rest of his team).

"OW!!"

* * *

"Wow," said Jack, staring at Ianto, whom he assumed had been the one screaming. "Ianto, I think this allergy may have had some affect on your voice box. Your scream has never been _that _girly. Husky maybe. Hoarse and gruff and -"

"No! Jack, just stop," Owen pleaded, dropping his branch of nettles and running away from the horny Captain as fast as he could. In his haste, he forgot all about the huge quantities of nettles he had left at the bottom of the stairs for 'back-up' and ended up crashing into them, and falling on top of a squirming Tosh.

"OWEN!!! GET OFF ME!!"

"I CAN'T!! MY LEG IS STUCK UNDER YOUR ARM!!"

"GET YOUR CRUTCH OUT OF MY FACE OWEN!!"

"OUCH!"

"WHAT?!"

"DON'T DO THAT!"

"DO WHAT?!"

"BITE MY. . .ARGH!!!"

"IT'S NOT ME!!"

"WHAT?! JACK!!! ARE YOU HERE TOO?! I AM GOING TO BLOODY KILL YOU!!!"

"OWEN! CALM DOWN!! IT'S JUST THE NETTLES!!"

"WHAT? WHAT?! YOU MEAN THAT I HAVE STINGING NETTLES ATTACKING MY. . ."

"Yes."

"_SHIT_!"

This caught Jack's attention. He came bolting down the hallway, stopping just in time to prevent his own fall into the pit of nettles. He peered into the branches, and resurfaced, laughing his head off.

Owen and Toshiko were rolling around on top of each other. That would have been funny on it's own. That was outweighed, however, by the even funnier fact that they were rolling around in a pile of stinging nettles, and were in pain. Lots of pain.

Served them right for trying to cure his hiccups.

But Jacks moment of glee was brought to a sudden halt by Ianto's terrified scream of "STOP!! STOP!! SOMETHING'S WRONG!!"

Jack bolted back to his lover (who was still tied to the wall – looking terrified) and Owen and Tosh ran (more like crawled) out of the branches to follow him.

"What happened" Jack asked Gwen.

"He just started screaming!! I wasn't even _touching_ him."

"Ianto?" Jack asked calmly, approaching the Welshman, "What's wrong?"

"The bumps. The bumps have stopped moving."

"Okay then."

"Pull up my trouser leg."

Jack, grinning deviously, pulled up the trouser leg, and stared in horror at Ianto's leg. The leg was covered in moss, and dotted with tiny little bumps, which were all quivering in their spots.

As the team watched in fascinated disgust, the bumps stood completely still for just a moment, before bursting out of the skin into tiny, vivid purple, flowers.

The entire team cracked up.

"WHAT HAPPENED?!" Ianto screamed.

"You . . . you're . . . you're a walking plant!" Gwen managed to say, before dissolving once more into fits of laughter.

"Oh my god . . ."

Everyone looked up at the sound of Tosh's shocked voice, and soon discovered that Ianto's legs had not entirely stopped . . . blooming. Stinging nettles were appearing fast, running up his ankles, to his calves, and covering his knees. His entire leg had become a purple and green garden.

"So, does this mean that he starts sprouting whatever plant touches him?" Owen whispered.

"I guess so."

"THIS IS GREAT!!" The team looked at Owen, who had a large, cheeky grin on his face, "Well don't you see? We can load him up with roses, and lilies . . . he can be a walking florist!"

"WHAT?!" Screamed Ianto, attempting to throw himself at Owen, despite being chained to a wall.

As Ianto continued to scream profanities and threats (the most common one being 'I will make you drink decaf for the rest of your life!) at Owen, the rest of the team sat down to decide their next move.

"We could try weed killer?" Suggested Jack.

"But if those plants are an actual part of him, couldn't that kill him?" Gwen countered.

"Oh, yeah."

"Well, plants need water to survive." Owen stated thoughtfully. "We could trap his legs into a hydro chamber, and suck all of the water out of the air. That'd dehydrate them."

"NO!" Screamed Jack, eyes wide with horror, "NOT HIS LEGS!! NOT HIS NICE SMOOTH LEGS!"

"Wait," called Tosh from where she was inspecting the floral display on Ianto's lower limbs, "these are tropical flowers."

"So?"

"So, they need heat to survive. We could just freeze them to death."

The team looked at each other, evil grins apparent on every one of their faces. Perfect.

* * *

Jack was enjoying himself immensely. He had Ianto EXACTLY where he wanted him. Chained up against the wall, powerless against Jack, who was currently stripping him of all his clothes. Despite the rapidly decreasing temperature in the Hub (courtesy of Toshiko, who had fiddled with the alien air conditioning to such an extent it had begun to snow) Jack was feeling … really, _really_ hot. Much to Owen's disgust _(not that he was homophobic or anything_ … _just_ … _Ianto was covered in_ … _plants. He had difficulty understanding the attraction. Then again, Martha had said she'd had difficulty understanding the attraction of a giant blue insecty-humanoid_ … _ish bug thing._) Gwen and Tosh were just amused. The three team members were currently inside the plant hothouse, the warmest place in the hub right now, and Tosh and Owen were trying to soothe their inflamed, red skin. Nettles were dangerous.

As the gentle snowfall in the hub reached blizzard level, Jack began to feel the cold. He had to admit, stinging nettles really weren't much of a turn on. Even for him. And even dressed in his heavy military coat, the Captain was freezing. Ianto should have been hypothermic by now, but the plants all over him seemed to be providing some protection against the cold. So, Jack went in search of some extra layers. And found them, in Gwen's handbag. He took one look at the oddly wrapped package, in gaudy kitten wrapping paper and knew instantly what it was. Beatrice had made him a cardigan.

He'd met Ianto's 'grandmother' at the beginning of the previous year, and had an instant effect upon her. He'd earned himself a good couple of slaps from Ianto and Gwen for 'wooing the poor lady'. Well, that he supposed - and snogging her. He just couldn't help himself; she _was_ attractive, considering her age. Beautiful legs. But of course, he couldn't do that to an old lady, so he sufficed himself by kissing her. She was a good kisser too. Anyway, considering the two got along so well, it was hardly a surprise that for every occasion, she gave him something in return. That something being a wonderful 40's style cardigan. Jack had argued _(to no avail, sadly)_ that in the 40's they were highly fashionable, everyone was wearing them. Except him. At that time, he wasn't particularly trendy. Just shows how things change_. (For some reason that statement had made Ianto and Owen snort with laughter. He couldn't understand why.)_ The cardigan this time around was a wonderful air-force blue. It matched his coat. Jack was pleased.

Ianto had confiscated his Australia day cardigan, his Easter cardigan, his Labour Day cardigan, his Bastille Day cardigan, his 4th of July and Queen's Birthday cardigans, his Kwanza and Hanukkah and Christmas cardigans because apparently they were 'ghastly'. So here was his birthday cardigan, and he was only too happy to pull it on over his coat as the wind inside the hub reached gale force.

The best part was that Ianto was chained to the wall, so he couldn't take it away.

But unfortunately, the rest of his team _could_.

. . . . . . . . .

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

Ianto's scream of annoyance echoed off the walls of the hub, alerting the rest of the team that something was VERY wrong. They soon found the teaboy, still chained to the wall, glaring down at Jack who was wearing something which looked horribly like one of Grandma Beatrice's cardigans.

"NO!! NO!! ANYTHING BUT THAT!!! TAKE IT AWAY!!! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TAKE IT AWAY!!! I DON'T CARE IF YOU SHOVE NETTLES IN MY EYES, IT DOESN'T MATTER!!! I JUST DON'T WANT TO SEE THAT **THING!!!!**"

"Are you calling this cardigan, which was made so lovingly by your darling grandmother, a thing? Why, Ianto, I wouldn't have thought that you, of all people would - "

Jack's rant was cut short as Owen, the first person _not_tied to a wall to recover from the horror of Jack's fashion choices, launched himself at the Captain's head. The pair disappeared into the blizzard, leaving Gwen and Tosh still staring horrified at the spot where Jack had just been standing. From there on, all that was seen by anyone was white, swirling snow, and all that could be heard was a lot thudding, yelling, smashing of computer equipment and yells of 'How DARE you wear that. . . abomination in front of us!!' and "NO! OWEN NO! PLEASE NOT THE HAIR!! _Anything_ but THE HAIR!! . . . NO! NOT THERE EITHER!! OWEN!!!"

Gwen and Tosh, deciding that Owen would need their help to catch Jack and destroy that creation, plunged into the swirling white snow, leaving Ianto alone . . . again.

The Welshman was left, chained to a wall, with one leg broken and the other covered in plants, freezing to death and _very_annoyed that he couldn't join in the quest destroy Beatrice's latest cardigan. It was possible that this was the most pissed off he had ever been. And he couldn't even do anything about it, because of Jack's lovely shackles.

Shackles which had started squeaking.

Ianto looked down, to see that the build up of ice around his ankles had begun to melt . . . causing rust. Lots of rust. Ianto struggled against his bonds, and with a large creak they snapped in half.

It was a shame, Ianto reflected, glancing down at the broken irons – they held many good memories for him, remembering hours spent in Jack's … hole. However, he was saved the energy required to shed a tear, when he found himself scowling across at the abandoned bushel of stinging nettles. There were some _not_ so good memories attached to these chains too.

But Ianto's time of reflection was cut short when he caught sight of a limping figure donning a ripped air-force-blue cardigan, muttering alien profanities under his breath and heading Ianto's way. As Jack drew closer, Ianto noticed how dishevelled the Captain's appearance was. He infamous great coat was nowhere in sight, his trousers appeared to have burn holes in them, the mop on top of his head looked more like a bird's nest than hair and there were tear tracks running through the dirt which caked his handsome (if filthy) face. The look would've made him look tough, rugged and highly shaggable, had he not been viciously protecting his torn cardigan, constantly glancing nervously over his shoulder, and sobbing like a six year old girl without her dolly.

_Poor guy, _Ianto thought staring at his boss pitifully, _I should probably put him out of his misery._

And so, Jack (still too busy trying to make sure that Tosh was off somewhere else with that flamethrower) wondered over towards Ianto, completely unaware of Ianto's cast-clad foot heading towards his head.

_THWACK!!_

Ianto's cast connected with Jack's head. Jack went down with an almighty crash. Ianto smirked.

"And that's for what you did at my last family dinner. You are _such_ an embarrassing date."

Jack's final slurred words as he slipped into the depths of unconsciousness were, "Oh … but you enjoyed it."

At opposite ends of the Hub, both Owen and Gwen had heard the Captain's ungraceful landing, and so decided to investigate.

Running full-pelt in an artificial blizzard is not _ever_ a good idea. Especially if, like Owen, you are holding an icy broom, or, as Gwen was, a fire extinguisher.

As it was, they saw each other a little too late, and trying to stop on ice is not easy. Ever.

With a loud _bang_, the two collided, much to Ianto's amusement. The situation was not helped when Ianto involved his weapon of mass destruction (aka the broken leg). A swift kick to the temple knocked both his colleagues flat.

Tosh soon arrived, bearing the flamethrower which had so scared Jack earlier. Ianto didn't kick her, as she stopped a metre away, and instead asked incredulously, "_Where_ did you get a flamethrower?"

Tosh looked quite pleased with herself. "It's my precision flamethrower. His name's Trevor."

"You named a flamethrower _Trevor??_ What is _wrong _with you?!"

"I work at Torchwood. Now, let's get you down. I'm feeling sorry for you, I know what it's like."

Ianto was greatly relieved that _someone _was pitying him enough to let him down, until he realised just _how_ she planned on doing so.

That flamethrower looked awfully threatening.

Especially when it was aimed a centimetre away from his wrist.

Especially when Tosh was muttering to herself in Japanese (presumably to prevent Ianto from knowing that she didn't know exactly _how_ to work the thing).

Especially when the first test resulted in a mushroom-shaped flame blooming in front of his face, followed by half the dials and switches on Tosh's contraption letting out worrying amounts of smoke.

"You know what? I think I'm absolutely _fine_ up here, Tosh."

"Don't worry Ianto, Trevor and I have an understanding, I keep his fuel tank full, and he -" Tosh's (faked) reassurance was brought to an abrupt halt by Gwen, who, seeing fire, immediately reacted. Tosh soon found herself unable to speak due to her entire mouth being full of that white, fluffy, fire extinguishing … stuff.

The immediate effects of Gwen's lightning fast reaction, was Tosh being reduced to a fit of coughs, Gwen being reduced to a fit of apologies, and Ianto being reduced to a fit of laughter. How was it that regulation equipment found itself so often used and abused in the hands of the Torchwood team?

* * *

The first thing that Owen noticed when he woke up was that his head was killing him.

The _second_ thing he noticed was the hard, muscled, and worryingly _bare_ chest his head was resting on.

Owen sat up, fast.

"_Please_ tell me I didn't. Oh God, tell me I _didn't_!"

That was when he noticed the audience. Tosh, Gwen and Ianto were in fits of laughter.

"Blizzard's gone," Owen tried to recover his lost dignity with the observation. He failed.

"Tosh turned the air-con off," Gwen managed between giggles.

Owen recognised that they weren't about to forget his position of moments before. So he tried for answers. "Why is Jack shirtless?"

Tosh grinned. Ianto hefted a partially intact sleeve, attached to the charred remains of the horrible sweater, as Tosh lovingly fingered her Trevor.

* * *

Owen was hiding. He hated hiding. You never knew if you were being a successful hider or not. If he had known there would be this much hiding involved, he would never have signed up for the job. Of course, most of his hiding hadn't come about till very recently. Nowadays, fear of curing gave him something to hide from. But he wasn't hiding in fear today. No. Today he was hiding in embarrassment.

As if it wasn't enough that he had to wake up after being knocked out by Ianto. IANTO of all people. He was a teaboy!!! A secretary!!!! Worse still, he was WELSH. Owen not only had to survive that embarrassment, but also the humiliation of waking up _on top_ of Jack. Shirtless Jack. Sleeping, shirtless Jack. Sleeping, shirtless Jack, lying beneath sleeping, _drooling _Owen.

He would never live this down.

Hence the hiding. Hiding was good. He would not be found. He would simply sit here, hiding, for the rest of the foreseeable future. No one would find him. He would slowly become one with his surroundings, welded to them by a thick layer of dust. He would become part of the furniture, like a crew member aboard the _Flying Dutchman. _No one would find him.

"Hey Owen."

"DAMMIT TOSH!! NO ONE WAS SUPPOSED TO FIND ME HERE!!"

"Well, if you didn't want anyone to find you, then you really shouldn't be muttering to yourself."

Owen huffed.

"And you really, _really, _shouldn't be sitting in full view of that camera."

Tosh pointed up to the ceiling, where a small black camera was innocently sitting in the corner, spying on him. Owen promptly resumed his muttering.

* * *

The hub no longer resembled the Antarctic, Jack had cleaned all of Owen's drool off his chest, Owen had recovered from the embarrassment of waking up on Jack's chest and the rest of the team had managed to wrestle Trevor free of Tosh's death grip. It was time to get back to work.

"OZONE THERAPY!!!"

"No, Jack."

"But Gwennie!!"

"DON'T CALL ME GWENNIE!!!!"

The table burst into laughter.

"I hate you all," Gwen muttered, scowling at them.

"We could try depriving them of light," Toshiko suggested, carefully inspecting Ianto's leg, "that way, they couldn't photosynthesise, and they'd have no energy to survive on."

"But wouldn't they just get their energy from Ianto?" Gwen countered.

"So we'll starve him."

"OWEN!!"

"Okay, okay. We'll feed him."

Ianto looked up hopefully.

"On that note, can I go out for lunch?"

"No."

"Dammit."

"Ianto," Gwen said patronisingly. "You. Are. A walking. _Plant_. You can't waltz into a cafe as a pot plant with a body!! Plus, isn't that marijuana growing on your ankle?"

"Really?! Can we sell it?!"

"OWEN!!"

"Okay, okay. How about Ozone Therapy?" Owen suggested hopefully. Tosh looked at him like he was an idiot. Which wasn't exactly far from the truth.

"Jack's already suggested that. And we already said no."

"Correction, Gwen already said no. Plus, I think it's a good idea."

"NO!" Ianto, Gwen and Tosh screamed simultaneously. Seeing as their first idea was thrown out the window, the boys promptly came up with another one.

"How about we burn them?" Jack said, the glee emanating from him.

"Ozone Therapy it is then."

"But Gwennie, I like this one better!!"

"DON'T CALL ME GWENNIE!!"

"Gwennie-poo?"

"Hey Tosh, can I borrow Trevor for a minute?"

* * *

Twenty minutes later found Ianto tied up, _yet again, _this time with what appeared to be a car battery, a rock and a hose, connected to the plants which covered his knee and ankle. Ianto was not happy.

"Jack," Tosh said uncertainly, watching on as he fiddled with the dials on the car battery thing, "I don't want to distract you but . . . I think that this is actually illegal throughout all of Wales."

"Tosh, of course it's illegal, we torture people!" Owen snapped, looking up from securing Ianto's restraints. He was smiling. Evil, _evil_ man.

"I didn't mean that. I meant Ozone Therapy."

"IT'S ILLEGAL!!" Ianto practically screamed, "STOP!!! NO!!! I REFUSE TO PARTICIPATE IN THIS ACT OF ILLEGALITY!!!! I AM A LAW ABIDING CITIZEN!!! I'M INNOCENT!!! INNOCENT I TELL YOU!! I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG!! DON'T LET THE POLICE GET TO ME!!!"

"This establishment is outside the government, beyond the police. You'll be fine Ianto."

Ianto was about to strongly disagree with this statement when Owen forced a gag into his mouth. Ianto did _not _like his current predicament. At all.

"Now, what happens, Ianto, is that we run a stream of electricity through the battery, and the water inside, changing the 3H2O into O3 and 6H2."

"Tosh, what?" Gwen asked, she who'd never bothered with learning chemistry, was quite confuzzled.

"Water plus electricity can make ozone and hydrogen. Ozone goes into the tube, and then through your leg, out the other tube, resulting in a reaction in the haemoglobin, which causes acute _urtica diotica _in the _hypertrichosis_. It's perfectly harmless, but some experts don't think it works." She looked at Ianto reassuringly. "Don't worry, you'll be _fine_."

Owen pulled Tosh aside and said quietly, "Umm.... Tosh? Are you aware that half the things you just said didn't make sense and the other half were incorrect? _Hypertrichosis_ is the medical term for an excessive growth of hair in an abnormal place on a person's body."

"Owen." She said patronisingly. "I know. I was just trying to calm Ianto down. You have no idea how many times I've done that to you when you're computer's crashed and you think you've lost all your porn. It always works a treat." She chuckled softly, and left Owen standing alone, dumbstruck.

* * *

Gwen and Jack had got the battery-like thing working.

Kind of.

Ish.

Which is to say, it wasn't working well. Or right.

In fact, when Tosh and Owen re-entered the scene, they both immediately picked up on something being wrong. Owen noticed that the patient's growth had increased, not decreased, while Tosh noticed that the wires were short-circuiting, in all likelihood sending waves of electricity up and down Ianto's calf.

Not good.

Sad thing is, Gwen and Jack thought it was _supposed _to do that.

Owen wrenched the clueless idiots away from the malfunctioning ozone-ater, then proceeded to ask Ianto whether he was OK. When Ianto failed to respond, Owen remembered the gag, and proceeded to remove it. Big mistake.

"**YOU FUCKING ARSEHOLES!!!!!! I HATE YOU! YOU'RE TRYING TO FUCKING KILL ME! I TRUSTED YOU! AND NOW THERE'S A COCONUT GROWING FROM MY KNEE! I swear to God, if you do not take this thing off **_**right**__**now**_**, I will attach it to either side of your undeserving HEAD!!!!!**" Ianto's rant was cut off by Owen unceremoniously shoving the now dirty gag back in his mouth. This earned him a death glare worthy of the Devil himself.

But no one was paying any notice to Ianto's glare of hatred. They were all focused on the short-circuiting battery thingy-ma-bob, and exactly what it was doing to his leg. Jack, now realising that something was _very _wrong, and realising that Ianto was in _a lot _of pain, was the first one to come up with a solution. He darted forward, grasped hold of the jump leads connected to Ianto's . . . plants, and ripped them out, taking a significant amount of plant with them. Even Owen's dirty gag couldn't stop Ianto's scream of pain when they were wretched from his flesh.

The team carefully inspected Ianto's leg, only to find that the Ozone Therapy had NOT worked. At all. In fact, if anything, it had been detrimental. The plants were now spreading over his body at an increasing rate.

The team looked at each other – this was _not _good.

* * *

_This is it, _thought Ianto, glancing around the hub, _this is my chance to ESCAPE! _

For the first time that day, he was alone. Gwen was out getting food, Tosh was attempting to fix the Ozone-ater, Owen was out trying to find weed killer, and Jack had disappeared into the archives. He was alone.

He was sick of his teammates hurting him and his precious plants. After all, they were a part of him to now. Why did they have to go? They'd never hurt anyone. It was his teammates who were doing all the hurting. This was it, Ianto decided. He had a chance to get out.

And he was taking it.

* * *

Tosh emerged from her tech-mode to find an empty hub. She knew that Jack was looking for anything similar from the past, Owen was looking for weedkiller, and Gwen was getting food. But Ianto, he was _supposed _to be in the hub.

_Supposed_ _to_ being the operative word in that sentence.

Tosh – being Tosh – did the first thing that she always did in a potential crisis. She went to her computer. CCTV footage held the answer she was looking for. Ianto had escaped, and was headed for the park.

* * *

The Torchwood SUV pulled up in front of Cardiff's most popular park. The park in which one of their members was currently hiding.

"Split up. If you find him, immediately call for backup, this man is highly dangerous," Jack ordered, before the team – in true Torchwood fashion – began running to opposite corners of the park.

Gwen found herself scurrying through the playground, checking in slides, digging into the sandpits, and scrambling under climbing obstacles. No Ianto.

Jack was given the 'pleasure' of the public toilets. Both the men's and women's. No Ianto.

Owen tried the duckpond. The man was so thorough that he even donned his wetsuit and scuba-gear to check if the teaboy was hidingon the bottom of the lake. Still, no Ianto.

Tosh was asking the park's visitors if they'd seen anything. No matter how many people she talked to, she still couldn't find hide nor hair of Ianto.

The four met up an hour later when their attempts had proven fruitless.

"He's a walking pot plant! HOW CAN HE HIDE SO WELL?!" Owen basically screamed in frustration. He'd almost been arrested for defacing public property.

Jack, who was equally as frustrated (he'd almost been arrested for invasion of privacy), yelled at the top of his voice and proceeded to kick a stone into the trees. It landed in the middle of a shrub. The shrub let out an un-shrub-like 'oof!'

"Ianto?" Jack muttered, running into the forest to inspect his lover, who, at the moment, didn't quite look human.

In fact, Ianto was covered from head to foot in plants. His toes had been replaced with grapes, there was a palm tree emerging awkwardly from his hip, and his shoulders were sprouting roses. This was _not _good.

"Ianto? IANTO?!" Jack screamed, shaking him roughly.

"Maybe he can't hear you for the leaves." Tosh suggested quietly.

"IANTO!!!" Jack wailed, melodramatic as always.

"Ummm . . . Jack."

Ianto had opened his mouth, but it was not him who spoke. Instead it was Owen, who was looking down Ianto's throat, his expression extremely worried. For, growing in Ianto's mouth, was what appeared to be a small watermelon.

"But . . . but . . . that's not's supposed to . . . how's he supposed to . . . . where am I going to stick my . . . . this has to be fixed. _NOW._"

* * *

Ianto was NOT happy. For the second time in the course of one day, he found himself tied up with padlocked chains, leather belts, and a rather alarming amount of rope. And to make things worse, his nose was itchy. And no one was willing to scratch it for him.

Well, actually, no one knew it was itchy. Because he had recently found himself unable to talk. But still, if they _had_ known that his nose was itchy, they would, most likely, have refused to scratch it for him.

But Ianto wasn't the only unhappy one. As a matter of fact, the entire team was miserable. The situation was _not_ improved by Jack's incessant whining. Ianto was covered in plants, and slowly choking to death on a rapidly growing watermelon, Tosh was sporting a broken nose (happily delivered by an old woman with Alzheimer's who'd been convinced she was a Japanese spy), Owen, dripping wet, was yet again, starting a cold – a concept which terrified him to no end. Gwen (having been attacked by a rabid bunch of eight year old children … with sticks) was looking mournfully at the remnants of her new jeans. . .and holding a chunk of her own hair, which had been torn out by a little girl in a pink corduroy pinafore, orange hat and fairy wings. And Jack, Jack their fearless captain, he had been stung by a bumblebee. It was – according to him – the most painful thing to ever have happened to him. Ever.

The team thought that he was just being a wuss. As usual.

* * *

"Uhhh … Jack? Did you find anything in the archives?? Or can you remember if this has ever happened before?? Or … Jack could you just do _something_ to help?!"

Back in the hub, the team were trying, despite their injuries, to fix Ianto. Tosh was struggling to talk through the blood from her nose, Gwen was feeling uncomfortable in just a sheet, not to mention the blood pouring out of the scratches which decorated her legs, and Owen was heading into the first stages of hypothermia, but that didn't stop them addressing Ianto's predicament.

Jack however, was in _far_ too much pain to help anyone else. So, instead, the Captain sat at the head of the table, sucking on his thumb, and feeling sorry for himself.

"JACK?!"

"Mmmgmmmsjhymmm."

"Jack! You need to take your thumb _out_ of your mouth before you talk?! GOD YOU ARE SUCH AN IDIOT!"

Jack _was_ concerned for the team's health. He really was. But realistically, who was in more pain at the moment – them, or him? His thumb was throbbing. The pain was overtaking him. He couldn't concentrate with this agony spreading throughout him. How could they expect him to concentrate when he was in this much pain?! THEY HAD NO SYMPATHY FOR HIM AT ALL!!! Those insensitive twats!

"JACK!"

"I CAN'T DO IT!!!! I CAN'T CONCENTRATE ON CURING IANTO OF WHATEVER THE HELL IS WRONG WITH HIM WHEN I'M IN THIS MUCH PAIN!!! I'M SORRY IANTO!!! I'M SO, SO, SORRY!!"

The team stared at him blankly. He was kidding, right?

Nope. The captain was not, in fact, kidding. As was proven more than a second later when, with a shout of 'OF COURSE!' he ran from the room, heading towards his office, still sucking on his thumb.

"JACK!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU SELFISH BASTARD!!" Owen managed to cough out. Painfully.

He was met with a muffled reply of:

"NAAAANNNNNOOOGGGEEENNNEESSS!!!!" Jack came running out of his office, a huge grin on his face, and was met by the rest of the team. In his hand he held a jar of glowing … things, which looked oddly familiar.

"Oh. My. God. MY FOOT!! It's those things that _fixed my foot_!" Gwen cried, pointing accusingly at the jar.

"Nanogenes!" Jack cried happily, "They'll fix my bee sting! Then we can get to work and figure out how to cure Ianto!"

The team glared at him. This man was, quite possibly, the stupidest smart person _ever_ to have existed. And he was leader of planet Earth's first, last and only line of defence.

Before Jack could even blink, he found himself on the floor, with a large weight on his chest, and his precious bottle of nanogenes rolling away from him.

"Gwen, why are you sitting on me? And where are your clothes? Rhys … well … he won't be happy about this, you know. Especially if he's watching channel four. Right now." Gwen looked alarmed as she spied her sheet lying two metres away from where she was currently sitting. Jack's smirk grew even wider.

Of course, it's hard to smirk when you're unconscious. Or dead. In the next 3.26754 seconds Gwen realised that Jack's twattiness had grown to an unbearable level, so she did something about it, resulting in Jack sinking into the depths of temporary death.

* * *

_This curing, _Jack pondered as he came back to life for what could've been the billionth time that day, _is not good for my health. _He groaned, opened his eyes blearily, and sat up. There was one small consolation to dying at Torchwood, he was almost always greeted by a very attractive Welsh person. And they were almost always happy to see him alive and … snogging, yet again. _Almost always._

As Jack's vision returned, he noticed the customary attractive Welsh person standing above. However, he didn't look particularly happy to see Jack alive. And looked ready to beat the shit out of the captain, rather than snog him. Jack suddenly found himself wishing he was still dead, and, with a rather large watermelon heading towards his head from a reasonable height, he didn't have to wait long for his wish to come true.

* * *

"So, Ianto, when I'm done with this, do you want to keep it or throw it?" Owen asked, as he cut away at Ianto's cast.

"Well, I've got a lot of fond memories from this thing. And it is useful." Ianto mused, casting a glance to the area of the wall which he had spent the majority of the day tied to. "I don't think I'm ready to part with it just yet."

Smirking at one another Ianto and Owen made a trade. Ianto provided Owen with a mug of steaming coffee, and Owen provided Ianto with a weapon of mass destruction, disguised as an old cast kept together with liberal amounts of duct tape.

Ianto grinned evilly. This was going to be fun. But first, he had to repay the team for their efforts in helping him. Owen gets coffee and a good laugh, Ianto magically procured some beautiful, deliciously expensive clothes for Gwen, and Tosh. . .well, Ianto had always known that Owen harboured feelings for the woman. So he worked his magic. All was happy and Tosh had a date.

* * *

Jack was pulled roughly from the black abyss of death, and found himself wishing, for the second time that day, that he was still there. He also couldn't help noticing Owen's coffee, Gwen's new clothes, and Tosh's new smile. He was jealous. This was Ianto's doing. He'd had it hard, he'd been deprived of sex for almost five weeks! What'd he get?! Sitting up, he immediately saw what it was that he got, and realised that he'd have been happier with nothing at all.

Ianto, although he was snarling like a monster, was still kind. "I would suggest that you run, Jack. _Fast._"

Jack took the advice, and was out the door – screaming like a madman – in a second. Ianto, complete with war cry and dangerously swinging cast, went bolting after him.

Tosh, Owen and Gwen watched (and recorded) the chase on Tosh's laptop. Jack, fear evident in his eyes, running through the crowd of mildly surprised people, hotly pursued by Ianto, who honestly looked as though he was going to spifflicate his boss with nothing more than a chunk of plaster of Paris and a lot of duct tape.

"STOP, IANTO!!! STOP!!! I'M SORRY!!! I'LL MAKE IT UP TO YOU!! I'LL MAKE YOU DINNER!!!"

Ianto's scream of fury could be heard throughout the whole of Cardiff, along with the team's howls of laughter.

* * *

**A/N's:**

**Wiltingflowersandpinkribbons: **Well, there you have it!! Hope it was alright, and hopefully the next one will be up soon . . . ish. PLEASE REVIEW!!!!

**Sazza-da-vampire:** My favourite line: 'Plus, isn't that marijuana growing on your ankle?'  
We had fun writing this, and coming up with ideas. Anyone else like chained up Ianto? *evil laugh*. Bondage. mwahahaha


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